


green as the hills after a rain

by fwooshy



Series: HP Kinkuary 2021 [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amortentia, Angst, Dark, HP Kinkuary 2021, Love Potion/Spell, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29422845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fwooshy/pseuds/fwooshy
Summary: I love him, so I call him Love.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: HP Kinkuary 2021 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2142777
Comments: 13
Kudos: 39
Collections: HP Kinkuary 2021





	green as the hills after a rain

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day!! 🥳
> 
> Thank you very much to [Sara/glittering_git](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glittering_git/pseuds/glittering_git) for the beta. 💛💛

I love him.

His eyes are a deep, verdant green, green as the hills after a rain. His lips are sweet as treacle against my throat, and he smells faintly of broomstick handle even after a bath. He goes by Harry—Harry Potter—but I would love him even if he were named Ron Weasley, or Bellatrix Lestrange.

I love him, so I call him Love.

Love is a simple, uncomplicated creature.

"Love, please," murmured up his neck as his thighs clenched around my waist, his come splattered over my chest. "Please, I love you so much," gasped against his ear as he shakes and shivers under my weight, my balls slapping with every thrust. "I love you," whispered between heavy breaths, whispered to the ceiling, whispered in the dark.

I love you.

The first time, he says it like a question, like he's testing the words in his mouth—manoeuvring them around his teeth, under his tongue—tasting for poison. But then he repeats it, surer. Louder.

"What are you thinking?" he asks, his nose pinched in that way I love.

"I'm thinking about how much I love you," I say.

He blushes like it's a surprise, when really, I've loved him every second I've been awake since the war ended.

"This is—" he laughs, suddenly shy. "This is a big moment, isn't it?" His hand interlaces with mine. 

Is it?

"Yes," I say, because I love him, and I want him to be happy. He pushes me back against the sofa before sinking to his knees. I spread my legs, let him crawl between them, let him lick between my cheeks and around the rim. He is docile in a way that is different from before because he loves me now. He shows me how much his new declaration means to him, one gentle inch at a time.

Because he loves me now.

I love it because I love him.

My love for him coats my belly untouched, while he’s still hot within me. He swirls a finger through my come, lifting it to his lips. I catch his finger in my mouth, sucking it, moaning. It’s too much for him and his hips stutter, spilling into me, his eyes squinted shut and his mouth a perfect O. There's nothing I don't love about it.

"I love you," my love says again, to the darkness.

It strikes me then how little that revelation means to me. That I've never cared if he loves me back because I love him enough for both of us.

Love can be simple like that.

Or can it?

Isn't it strange, how I used to love my mother? And Pansy Parkinson, and my Nimbus 2001? I was a fool then, to settle for watercolours when my love for Harry leaps off the page.

Or does it?

When Vincent Crabbe walks through my dreams, he says, "Wake up, Draco. Do you remember when you loved me? Do you remember when you'd call me a fool and then laugh, and I never minded because you always gave me your mum's chocolate, to make up for it? Do you remember when you yelled for me with your lungs choked up with smoke? Do you remember how much you loved me then, even as I nearly killed you too? Do you? Wake up, Draco. Wake up."

I wake up.

My name is Draco Malfoy, and my parents are dead. I have no family, no friends. I never graduated from Hogwarts. My future is a black tunnel going down to the bottom of a well, where I'll starve before I drown.

Next to me sleeps Harry Potter, who loves me.

Harry Potter, who I love, until it hurts.

Love is a many-limbed beast, cross-eyed and contradictory, sticky-soft and unyielding, and I am strangled in its web.

I sit up and unlock the drawer by my bedside, a month’s supply of love chiming softly against each other in greeting. I uncork a dose and swallow it, tossing the empty vial into the wastebasket before lying back down on the bed. The potion smells of treacle tart, of broomstick handle—of fresh grass after a rain.

My eyes are wide open. But not for long.

**Author's Note:**

> ok i promise the next one will be kinkier.
> 
> Thank you for reading! 💛 You can find me on [dw](https://fwooshy.dreamwidth.org/) and [tumblr](https://fw00shy.tumblr.com/).


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